


Stalker

by Myka, UnholyNightmare



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Anal Sex, Art, Blood and Violence, Blow Jobs, Creampie, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, Sadism, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:29:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22025593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myka/pseuds/Myka, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnholyNightmare/pseuds/UnholyNightmare
Summary: It's been a long time coming, but Ash finally has journalist Max Lobo right where he wants him.Tied up. Gagged. And cock hard and dripping, just waiting for Ash.
Relationships: Max Lobo/Ash Lynx
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43
Collections: Myka and Coop's Fics





	Stalker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Salmon95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salmon95/gifts).



> **This is our joint birthday gift for Salmon! Happy Happy birthday!**
> 
> Art by [Salmon](twitter.com/sushisalmon95)

It’s 8:01 a.m. on a Thursday afternoon when Aslan Callanresse exits the metro station on 8th and 42nd and makes his way to the New York Times office on the 24th floor.

He’s wearing a blue sweatshirt over his dress shirt and a long brown coat to keep himself warm from the fall cold, and though he’s positive he looks the part, the secretary at the main lobby still eyes him twice before handing him his pass.

Ash hurries across the row of cubicles before anyone can question anything–the sound of typewriters and phones ringing a constant buzz of noise all around him.

Ash sits down in the second to last cubicle and glances at his watch. 8:17 a.m. Just in time.

“Hey, kid. That’s my cubicle.”

Ash turns his head just enough to watch journalist Max Glenreed block the exit to the cubicle. He has a half-empty cup of coffee in one hand and a tattered briefcase on the other, and his eyes are kind, but starting to narrow in annoyance.

“I was told to sit here.” Ash says innocently.

Max grumbles and looks to the side. “Hey, Greta! Why is there a kid in my cubicle?!”

“Intern,” she yells over. “I’m busy. Figure it out.”

Max squeezes his eyes closed tight, looking for all the world like he’s about to throw his coffee right at Ash. Then he takes in a deep breath, carefully places his briefcase on the desk, and motions to Ash with the cup of coffee. “Alright kid. Let’s go figure out where you’re supposed to be.”

Ash just smiles.

“I thought this was a company get together.”

Ash looks up as he brings a tray of snacks to the table. “I sent an invite to everyone in my department,” he explains, setting the tray down in front of Max. “Maybe they didn’t wanna bother saying goodbye to the intern.” He smiles sheepishly. It’s been almost six months of this–back and forth, bumping into Max at every chance he gets, watching, watching, watching.

And everything is about to pay off.

Max grabs a piece of cheese. “I’m sure that isn't the case. You seem like you did a great job.” 

Ash nods. “Remember that time we got stuck on the elevator? Or that time I helped you get lunch for the photography department?”

“Yeah… sure.”

“Well since you’re the only one that bothered to show, I think I should open a bottle of whiskey.”

“Whiskey?” Max ears perk up, then he shakes his head and grabs his briefcase. “It’s okay, kid. Maybe some other time.”

“It’s the least I can do to thank you for coming.” Ash opens a cabinet. “My brother isn’t the most up-to-date with things I like, and he sent me this expensive bottle of whiskey for my 21st birthday.” Ash grabs a bottle of Jack Daniel’s Sinatra Select and shows it to Max.

Max whistles. “You’re brother has good taste.” He drops his briefcase down. “Sure. I can stay for a drink.”

“Awesome. On the rocks?”

“Neat.”

“Daring,” Ash murmurs, excitement thrumming low in his belly. “Give me just a minute.” He hurries to the kitchen, grabbing the two lowball glasses that he’d prepared that morning. He pours a good portion of the whiskey in both—his over ice, and Max’s without. He’s back in the living room, handing the glass over to Max within moments. Max lifts it to his mouth, breathing in and swirling the glass just a moment. Then he takes the tiniest of sips, eyeing Ash all the while. Ash just presses the liquid to his lips without drinking. “Good?” he asks, lips brushing against the cold of the glass.

“Very,” Max nods. “Now are you going to tell me why I’m the only one here?”

Ash smiles, and sips at his drink so slowly that Max has no choice but to follow suit. Max drinks deeper this time, eyes closing for a moment as he enjoys the taste of the liquor, then he opens them, still watching Ash, though his eyes look a bit hazy now, a bit out of focus.

“You look a little pale,” Ash asks with a smile. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Yeah…” Max slurs and Ash watches with fascination as the glass slips through Max’s fingers and shatters on the floor. “You put something in this.” Max voice drifts as he crashes into the nearest chair. “Fuck. I knew you were up to something. Damn kid…”

“Just sleep.” Ash caresses Max’s cheek softly. His breathing becomes slower and slower, but his eyes burned intensely.

“You’ve been stalking me haven’t you?” Max growls.

“Only a little.” Ash grins.

“I’m only going to warn you once, kiddo. Don’t fuck with me or you will be sorry.”

Ash tilts his head curiously to the side. “The one who will be sorry is you.” he grins from ear to ear. “Don't worry. When you wake up, everything will be perfect.”

“Wakey. Wakey.” Ash sing-songs and flicks his fingers at Max’s nose again and again.

Max’s eyes open sluggishly. The confusion brief as he finds Ash standing in front of him. He tries to say something, but only muffled sounds come out. “I put some tape over your mouth. You know, for the neighbors sake.”

Max grunts some more and starts struggling. “None of that.” Ash warns grabbing a large butcher knife from the table and pricking the skin of Max’s neck with it. “You don't want me to accidentally cut you right?

Ash stands back and appreciates his work. Max is sitting on one of his dinner table chairs. Completely naked. Arms tied tight behind him with a rope, and tape covering his mouth.

“Beautiful.” Ash licks his lips as he gives a step back. “Watch me now.” He unbuttons his jeans and slowly peels them off. Max grunts and pulls on the ropes. Ash hooks a thumb on the hem of his underwear, pulling them down as well, exposing his half-hard dick. “Do you like what you see?” Ash raises his sweater just a tad over his stomach with his knifed hand. Noting as Max’s eyes follow his every move.

Max grunts again through the tape. Ash bends down until he’s inches from Max’s face, holding the knife behind him with both hands. “You’re so sexy. Let’s get you hard ok?”

Ash kneels in front of Max and presses the tip of the knife to Max’s knee. “Open up,” he orders. “No kicking.”

Max slowly spreads open his legs, and Ash has his first close look at his gorgeous cock. His dick twitches just at the sight of it and he kneels down, leaning forward and blowing a puff of air against Max’s inner thigh.

Max’s cock jumps immediately, and Ash looks up, grinning at the sudden tension in Max’s jaw.

“You like that,” he purrs, brushing the pads of his fingers against the sparse hairs on the top of Max’s thigh.

Max won’t look at him, but his eyes are narrowing, furious and angry.

Ash looks back down again, licking his lips. He leans forward again, nuzzling against the base of Max’s cock and then licking a long stripe up the side of it. “Oh,” Ash moans, opening his mouth and sucking at the tip. Slowly, he lowers his head, swallowing down Max’s cock. Max isn’t fully hard at first, so Ash is able to take his entire cock, but soon it hardens so much that it’s hitting the back of Ash’s throat and he has to pause for a moment, breathing steadily around it. Ash groans, low enough in his throat that he’s certain Max can feel every vibration, and then slowly he comes back up, popping free and swallowing thickly. “So big,” he murmurs. 

Ash can feel Max’s thighs trembling underneath the splayed fingers of his right hand and he bobs his head down fully one last time, swallowing around Max’s thick cock before slowly drawing up again. There’s a wet sound as his mouth pops off, and Ash wipes at his lips with the back of his hand. “You wanna cum, Max?” he asks, voice almost sing-songing along.

This is all a game to him, and the way Max’s entire body is taut like the string of an instrument has Ash so hard he can hardly bear it.

Max glares down at him, not making a sound, his breathing coming in quick, heavy gasps.

“Ah, ah,” Ash grins, flipping the knife easily in his free hand and pressing it against the hard line of Max’s hipbone. “I asked you a question. You better answer or…” he presses the knife in, just enough so that a few beads of blood bubble up around it.

Max grunts—not so much a pained thing as a sound of fury. Ash’s grin grows wider. “So?” he asks, letting the sharp tip of the knife dance circles around the pale skin of Max’s hip. “Do you want to cum?”

Max throws his head to the side, but not before Ash sees his nostrils flare out, sees the way his pupils are blown, jet black. He looks like a fettered horse who’s just waiting to run wild.

Ash bends over Max’s cock again. “I think you do,” he whispers against the wiry hairs of Max’s groin. Then he licks so slowly from the base all the way up to the flared tip that Max actually moans through the duct tape.

“There we are,” Ash says, finally satisfied. Then he pushes himself up off the floor, using Max’s knees for leverage, before stepping back.

Ash waits until Max turns his head just enough to look at him, just enough to see what Ash is doing. The fury is still there in his eyes, but there is something more now too—something growing with every passing moment. Max’s cock is dribbling precum from the slit, and his entire body is so hot to touch. He wants this. Ash knows he wants this.

Max’s eyes follow him as he walks the five steps to the table, picking up the small bottle that sits there waiting. He squeezes a liberal amount into the palm of one hand before turning, his back completely exposed to Max’s glare. Ash bends over the table easily, putting a foot up on another one of the dining room chairs to spread himself as wide as possible. Then he reaches behind, slowly pressing a finger into his hole and massaging it open. “You like this?” he moans against the table, forcing two fingers in now, as far as he can get them. “God, you love watching me don’t you?”

Ash’s hair has fallen over his face, and he’s still gripping that knife so tightly it will leave marks in the palm of his hand. He’s not usually this much of a performance artist, but fuck if the intensity of Max’s stare isn’t burning it’s way right through him. “Oh,” he gasps, managing to fit three fingers in and rocking back on them as hard as he can. “Oh, I want your fat cock inside of me.”

Max makes the tiniest sound through the tape, and Ash turns his head enough to see his face—to see the way that Max can’t seem to tear his eyes away from Ash’s hole. “I knew you wanted this,” he moans, then slowly pulls out his fingers, before pushing himself upright again. 

Ash’s fingers are wet with lube, but he reaches for the second item on the table—a small set of rubber rings that almost faded entirely into the dark wood, then walks back over to Max. 

“I’d have you taste,” Ash croons, brushing a fingertip across Max’s cheek and leaving a glistening trail of wetness. He bends down so that they’re face to face once more—their noses almost brushing. “But I like the way you look like this. Gagged. Helpless.” He moves, pitching his voice lower and licking against the shell of Max’s left ear. “Mine.”

With a swing of his hand, he stabs the knife down, burying it deep in the wood of the chair right between Max’s legs.

Max finally flinches at this, his breathing coming quicker and quicker, his eyes wild.

His erection doesn’t wane though, and Ash just smiles more and bends over, quickly rolling the cock ring over the head of Max’s dick and all the way down to his balls. “Don’t want you cumming too soon,” he adds, “although you’re so much bigger than I thought you’d be. Hope this doesn’t hurt too much.”

Ash stands again, kissing Max’s cheek almost gently, and watching the way the older man is glaring at him with absolute fury. He pulls the knife back out of the wood, presses it to Max’s neck, and then straddles him, positioning his asshole right above Max’s rock hard cock.

Ash puts his hands on Max’s shoulders. Knife grazing the skin on Max’s throat. “I’m gonna push you inside me,” he whispers on Max’s ear, the heat from Max’s breath warm on his cheek. “You get to fuck me.” He kisses Max’s lips through the tape. “Aren’t you lucky.”

Ash starts sinking down as slowly as he can. Max’s huge cock inching painfully inside. “Oh fuck,” Ash murmurs, eyes closing and teeth clenching as he starts taking all of Max inside himself. “Fuck you’re so big, I...I…” Ash’s fingers become shaky, his insides stretching until he bottoms out finally, a sigh of relief escaping his lips. The knife has left an angry line of red across Max’s throat, blood dripping there now, and Ash moans, bending in to lick at it. “You’re inside me. You’re inside me.” he repeats headily. “I knew you wanted to fuck me.” He doesn't wait for the pain to fade and slowly rises again, the rub of Max’s cock inside his hole so tight and so rough that he throws his head back and lets out a keening sound of pleasure and pain. 

Max is completely stiff against him, unable to move, refusing to look Ash in the eyes, but he grunts too, the smallest little sound of desire, and Ash can’t help but rock forward with Max’s name on his lips, “Max...Max...oh fuck Max...Max…”

Ash’s own cock is hard against Max’s belly, and it leaves little strands of wetness every time he moves. He can’t stand it anymore, the rub of Max inside of him is too much for Ash to handle, he can’t help but drop the knife and wrap a hand around his own hardness. The sound of the knife clattering to the floor is almost quiet compared to the sounds Ash is making now, riding Max’s cock as hard as he can. He strokes himself only a few times before he cums, crying Max’s name out with pleasure. He watches the spurts of white paint Max’s chest and belly as he’s rocking back and forth. Ash is shuddering, still moaning, still gripping himself until every last drop has spilled. “Fuck, your cock is perfect,” Ash moans. “You’re still rock hard. Does it hurt? Do you want to cum?”

Max’s muffled voice is angry angry against the tape. Ash slowly rises off of him, coming free from his cock with a squelching, wet sound.

Ash groans, stumbling free and bending to pick up the knife. “I...fuck. Fuck.” He’s gasping now, his own dick softening, but Max’s is just angry red and hard, the black rubber cock ring cutting in so tight it makes Ash’s stomach hurt. “Okay,” he finally breathes, reaching forward and grasping Max’s cock. “You want this off don’t you?” 

Max just glares fire at him.

Gritting his teeth, Ash slices another line down Max’s thigh—deep enough this time that the blood flows freely, not deep enough to cause any permanent damage. “I told you I wanted an answer, didn’t I?” Ash asks, still hazy from the orgasm, still blinking away pleasure.

“Mmmm,” Max grunts behind the tape.

It’s enough for Ash. He rolls the ring off, watching the way the muscles in Max’s thighs tense so hard he almost moves the chair. “Better, baby?” Ash whispers.

Max doesn’t answer again, but Ash is past the point of caring. He’s gotten what he wants. He’s fucked out, he’s sore, he’s ready to throw himself on top of his bed and pass out.

Ash grabs his phone and takes a picture of his fucked raw ass, Max’s dick, then a selfie. Sending them all to Max’s number with the cute text. _Thank you for the hard fuck, baby. Love you too._

__

Max makes more noise when his own phone pings with the message. “Just something to remember tonight.” Ash murmurs, still stumbling from foot to foot as though he’s drunk. He thinks for just a moment that this might be a bad idea, that Max is too angry, that Max isn’t going to let this go. But in the end, it doesn’t matter. Max enjoyed this just as much as Ash did, and Ash holds that knowledge over his head.

“I’m cutting you free,” Ash says, even as he leans back over Max, reaching around the chair and holding the knife against the rope. “You were a good fuck,” he adds, holding the blade to the rope.

Max is still glaring at him, breath coming hard. There’s a flush of red across his cheeks that’s grown even deeper and Ash just knows that he’s enjoyed the entire ordeal.

“Good,” Ash murmurs. Then he slices the ropes free. “Your clothes are in the kitchen. You can get—”

His voice huffs out as Max’s fist strikes out, punching Ash directly in the nose.

It’s all pain for a second, all fiery, knifing pain, and then Ash realizes that Max has thrown him up against the dining room table, bent him over it and grabbed ahold of a wrist, forcing Ash’s arm up almost past a position that he can breathe in.

“Max,” Ash gasps. “I thought—”

Max brings down the butcher knife hard on the table, just two inches from Ash’s face. “I warned you not to fuck with me, kiddo,” Max growls, bending over Ash. His is breath hot on the back of Ash’s neck, his cock is hard against Ash’s backside, and his grip is so firm Ash is certain his arm is about to be dislocated.

“Scared?” Max whispers in Ash’s ear, taking the knife and pushing the tip against Ash’s side.

Ash whimpers, but the knife just pushes in hard enough to draw blood. “That hurts,” he cries out, fright heavy on his voice.

“I like it when they scream,” Max says in response, lining up behind him and forcing his cock back into Ash’s ass at the same time as he pushes the knife half an inch into Ash’s side.

“Oh fuck!” Ash yells, trying to kick back, but Max just pins him down.

“It’s okay. I know what I’m doing. I’m not gonna hit anything vital.” He rolls his hips thrusting hard into Ash. “I just like a little blood.”

He’s not slow at all—not giving Ash any time to breathe—just thrusts in with one, feral motion, a groan of pleasure escaping his lips.

“I’m not yours,” Max growls, thrusting again, and again. “You’re the one that’s mine.”

Ash can hear the wet slap of skin against skin—feel the tip of the knife inside him, just at the edge— the bruising contact of Max’s thighs hitting the back of Ash’s ass. It’s too much, it’s painful, but Ash still hears himself start to moan in pleasure. Max is fucking him. _Max is fucking him._

Ash’s cheek rubs raw against the tabletop, he can’t quite close his mouth against the pain of it. “Max—” he groans. The knife goes deeper suddenly. “Max!—wait—Max—stop–the knife…stop–”

Max ignores him, jerking forward against him, groaning so loud Ash swears the table shakes with it. Max’s cock pulses and twitches against Ash’s walls, and Ash can feel the heat of warm cum inside of him, filling him.

“Oh fuck,” Ash moans, tears pooling in the corner of his eyes. “Oh fuck, oh fuck.” It hurts, but he wants Max’s cum so badly, it’s worth it.

Max pulls out and throws the knife close to Ash’s head, leaving a trail of blood, then pulls out—just slow enough that cum starts to leak down Ash’s thighs, thick, and cooling in the air of the apartment. “None of that.” Max bites out. “Close your ass. Keep it inside.”

“I…” Max releases Ash’s wrist, and Ash starts to push himself off the table when suddenly Max slams him back hard against the wood. Max’s fingers dig into his ass. Ash feels them scraping against his raw walls. Then suddenly Max is forcing his mouth open and pushing fingers dripping of cum against his tongue.

“Lick, you whore. Keep all my cum inside you.”

Ash nods, licks. “Fuck,” he moans as he swallows Max’s cum, squeezing his eyes tight. “Max, I’m—”

“Never ever drug me again,” Max growls, “If you wanna get fucked just ask next time.” He pushes away, wandering naked down the hallway. “Where the fuck are my clothes?”

Ash can’t move off the table, he just turns his head enough that he can take a look at the cut on his belly—eyes blurry with unshed tears. “Kitchen...” he answers, voice wrecked.

Max returns fully clothed and presses his fingers around Ash’s wound, making him cry out. “It’s fine. Just put a gauze on it.” He grabs the knife and drops it in his briefcase. “Thanks for the fuck, kiddo,” Max calls over his shoulder. “Next time, give me a heads up. I’ll bring over some more _interesting t_ oys.”

Then he disappears.

Ash trembles as he stands from the table. His ass hurts. His arm hurts. His body hurts.

It’s slow, but eventually he smiles, lips heart still beating fast against his chest. He carefully reaches down under the table to where his erection has grown once again, wrapping a hand around his cock, and jerking himself off.

It takes longer, this second time, but eventually Ash cums hard, painting the underside of the table white, Max’s name is still on his lips.

Blood is dripping down his side as he stands. And Ash goes to the bathroom to get gauze.

**Author's Note:**

> Find us on Twitter:  
> [Agentcoop](twitter.com/agentcoop1)  
> [Myka](https://twitter.com/mykafl)


End file.
